


Reunited

by burblyboy



Category: Teenage Bounty Hunters (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/F, Future Fic, Gift Exchange, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burblyboy/pseuds/burblyboy
Summary: Sterling would much rather be curled up on the couch back home, rewatching one of her comfort shows while devouring a pint of ice cream. But her friends would not take no for an answer. So here she was, drinking something that was awfully close to Sangria, but somehow pink and more potent. It was delicious. And deadly.
Relationships: April Stevens/Sterling Wesley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	Reunited

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RadBren13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadBren13/gifts).



Sterling looked around the room, decked out with every clichéd item ever remotely associated with love and romance, and wondered why she’d agreed to come out to the Valentine’s Day party arranged by the Pride Alliance in the first place. In her head she knew, because looking around she found herself surrounded by a multitude of attractive people that she would no doubt call a blessing had she been in the mood. Everyone was laughing and having a good time and there was certainly one or two that caught Sterling’s eye, but that didn’t change the fact that the mood was soured by the last experience that had started at an evening much like this one. Her heart simply wasn’t on board. No matter how many heart-shaped balloons and cheesy DIY affirmations about true love (and some about the joy of sexs—but described in less euphemistic terms) plastered to the walls tried to change her mind and cheer her up.

She’d much rather be curled up on the couch back home, rewatching one of her comfort shows while devouring a pint of ice cream. But her friends would not take no for an answer. So here she was, drinking something that was awfully close to Sangria, but somehow pink and more potent. It was delicious. And deadly.

“Hey, why do you look like somebody stole the last pint of Chunky Monkey?”

Sterling smiled, because it would be rude not to. And she  _ had _ just been thinking about Chunky Monkey.

“Yeah, snap out of it, Sterling. You’re young, hot and single. Not to mention surrounded by hot, young women willing to kill for you, if some of the looks I’ve seen directed at you tell even ten percent of the story.”

Sterling sighed. “I don’t want somebody to kill for me. I just want… I don’t know, an honest relationship.”

“You should want some  _ fun _ , especially after what Alexandra did.”

“Agreed. Serious relationships can get in the sea. At least until you get a chance to sample the merchandise. Discover what your favorite flavor combo is. Personally, I like—”

“Lexi had... Lexi wasn’t—” she shook her head. “I-I know what it’s like being the person in a relationship who pushes, when really all you can do is love and accept your partner. It should be easy, but it’s hard.” Sterling grimaced as the first thoughts of April she’d had in months, no weeks—okay, days—flooded her mind.

“She was a capital B—”

“Stop it.”

“I’m just saying. Not only is it not her place to determine what the appropriate amount of out is, but she was simply wrong. Just because you don’t have the pride flag tattooed on your pussy and run around flashing people in the quad, doesn’t mean you’re a self-hating, closeted lesbian.”

“Bi.”

“What, stop, you’re not a bit—”

“If I’m anything, it’s  _ bisexual _ , you dork.”

“Whatever, I am. Just. Saying.”

“I know you mean well, but from the bottom of my gentle Christian heart, filled with love for all things big and small: fuck you,” Sterling laughed, but the feeling in her chest refused to give way; even when her friends made her laugh, whatever joy she felt was temporary.

She knew the ache she felt wasn’t really due to the recent break-up, or having to sit here as people flirted from across the room and eventually right next to her before the flirting became something else, some more, something charged with a complex swirl of emotions: desire, lust, longing… maybe even hope it would become even more one of these days. Someday.

The heartbreak of what happened at the lock-in and everything that followed never really left her. Then came the further heartbreak when reality set in and it became clear she and April weren’t actually getting a second chance, let alone a someday. That feeling settled in her bones. 

Looking back, Sterling felt so young and foolish; she felt everything so acutely, the way a teenager experiencing heartbreak for the first time would. As a junior in college, she somehow still felt like that whenever  _ dating  _ or  _ relationships _ or… Whenever those topics came up, she found herself back at Willingham, in April’s arms, lips brushing against April’s, soft smiles whenever they locked eyes and realized what they were doing…

A part—not an insignificant part, either—of her wished she still was doing that. A more rational part would interject that the newness of everything back then made it seem so intense in retrospect, but she never paid much attention to that. Sterling  _ knew _ it was special; not because April had been her first: first real love, first girl, first heartbreak; she knew it because here she was, four years later and April  _ still  _ was the one she wanted more than anything. The one thing in her life that she regretted.

If only she’d tried harder to get April to talk to her once things had settled back down. If only she’d gritted her teeth and ignored how every mean, off-hand remark April made about her to her friends—never at Sterling, because April never gave her the time of the day—felt like a gut punch, maybe they could’ve ended up  _ something _ , but instead April had disappeared to some prestigious Ivy League school, leaving Sterling struggling to keep afloat in her turbulent wake. 

“I’m going to get some more of—” she motioned to the empty glass, more to wave away further thoughts of April Stevens than anything else, like those were a lingering mist constantly surrounding her, never really gone, never going away—”of whatever this concoction is.”

“Just order the pink. Eddie’ll know. Though the purple is really good too.”

“What’s in it?”

“Who knows? It’s tasty and it’s getting me fucked up in all the best ways.”

  
  


Sterling nodded her thanks to Eddie, the insufferably hip  _ mixologist _ she finally had to admit probably had earned using that term, and turned around, trying to find a way around the impromptu dance floor that had formed just feet away from where she was standing. Returning to the table turned out not much of a priority, because she could just about make it out through the crowd and it looked like her seat was currently occupied by some girl working very hard at charming the pants off one of her friends, though it wasn’t clear which one was the current target. So, she took a sip of pink and leaned back against the bar, trying to sort out her head. 

Normally her little trips down memory lane ended with a cathartic cry, or Blair telling her in no uncertain terms that she was better off without a demanding, mean lesbian ordering her around. And normally they ended pretty quickly, but this time around, the memories lingered longer than ever before, and a tiny piece of Sterling wondered if this was a sign; she just wasn’t sure of what.

The next sip became something more of a gulp, and she could feel the alcohol working. If she couldn’t spend Valentine’s Day happy and in love, she owed it to herself to finally admit that what she really wanted was April. It’d always been April and it probably always would be. Even when she was old and gray and sitting on the porch with her partner, April would still pop into her head from time to time. Life was unfair like that.

She could practically picture April standing in front of her. A few years older, a few years wiser than the last time she’d seen her, but still devastatingly hot in her flowy dress that swished as she moved closer to Sterling.

April? “April?” Nothing about this made sense, but that was definitely April Stevens standing in front of her, half-smirk locked and loaded and still doing things to Sterling, four years later. “What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t the most intelligent question to ask, but it was the most honest one. It was also something that April didn’t seem interested in answering, at least not using words. Instead she cocked her head, looking at Sterling like she’d said something monumentally stupid, and closed the distance, finally so close that Sterling could reach out and touch her or smell the scent wafting from her hair as she leaned in.

When their lips met again for the first time in longer than Sterling wanted to admit was true, it felt like coming home. It didn’t matter that she’d spent most of the evening reminiscing about how nothing ever felt as right as kissing April, because now she was here for some miraculous reason, and Sterling was immediately reminded of why she’d never been able to shake this feeling. 

Sterling didn’t want this moment to end, but she also wanted to make sure it, whatever  _ it _ would turn out to be, would keep happening, and the only way she knew how to do that was to stop, slow down and talk and make sure this wasn’t a pink-fueled hallucination or wishful thinking on her behalf. So she did, even though it went against every fibre of her being: she broke the kiss and put a hand on April’s chest, feeling her heart going a million miles an hours; a ghost wouldn’t have a pulse, let alone a heart that’s hammering against her palm at what couldn’t be a healthy rate, so this must be real.

“April, wait, we should…” Sterling scanned the room, trying to find a secluded spot. It pained her, but she let go of the girl she’d spent forever wishing would return to her arms, so she could turn around and get a good look. Kissing was good. Kissing April was amazing, but kissing could wait as long as she could ensure this time it wouldn’t end like it had before. “Hey, every table is occupied, and to be honest, this place is not meant for privacy anyway, so maybe we could—” Sterling breath hitches when she turns back around and realizes she’s talking to herself.

She’d been too preoccupied to notice April stepping away, but  _ why  _ would she do that? Why would she  _ leave _ ? If she wasn’t here to... then why would she show up out of the blue and kiss Sterling like that? 

This place only had two exits and April couldn’t have gone far. Sterling wished she knew which one she should check first. Eddie might’ve been able to help, but he was busy mixing another batch of drinks, but these turned out looking more like Pepto than anything else. So, Eddie the  _ bartender _ was useless. Suddenly, Sterling didn’t care about navigating around the throng anymore. She headed straight for her friends.

By the time she reached the table where her friends were happily talking like nothing extraordinary was happening, she was beginning to lose it; the thought of April walking away from her and disappearing out of her life again making her panic. “Uh, you guys didn’t happen to see where she went, did you?”

“Who?”

“April, uh, the girl I was making out with.” Sterling rolled her eyes at the whoops and outstretched hands offering congratulatory high fives. “You guys are no help at all.”

She grabbed her jacket, and sprinted out the closest door.

  
  


“April.” She walked up to the tiny girl hugging her knees on a park bench, shivering from the chilly night air, her heart clenching at the sight; nobody happy ever sat like that, and the thought of April unhappy was almost too much right now. Sterling’s lips still tingled from the kisses they shared moments ago and it was the best sensation ever. Unlike April, hers was a shiver of delight. She sat down and waited, patiently, like she always should have.

Sterling reached out and took April’s hand in hers, trying to reassure her that she was here, that she wasn’t going anywhere. When April intertwined their fingers and finally spoke, Sterling felt her heart leap. As long as they talked, nothing else mattered. They could figure things out.

“Why are you here, Sterling?”

“I think that’s a question I already asked and didn’t get an answer to.”

“Didn’t you?” April lifted her head from her knees and gave Sterling a pained look.

“I-I guess I did. So unless I really misread things—like really, really misread things—why did you leave?”

“You told me to stop. So I did.”

“I never said stop.”

“You pushed me away. Literally.”

“I said  _ wait _ . April, please, you have to know there’s nothing I want more.”

“Then why stop?”

“Because it’s been years. And with one kiss I was back where we were then.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It didn’t end well. And now we’re sitting on a bench again and if I wasn’t terrified you’ll walk away again, I would laugh at the irony.”

“Things are different.”

“Are they? How would I know? We haven’t seen each other since graduation.” Sterling scooted closer and wrapped an arm around April’s shoulder. “I just know I’ll do anything it takes to make sure you never walk away again.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Marry me,” April said, her face deadly serious.

Sterling’s eyes went wide and she couldn’t help but laugh at the preposterousness of it all. “I always thought I’d be the one to make a dramatic proposal out of nowhere,” she said with a snort.

April’s face softened. “I don’t intend to walk away, Sterl.”

“And I’m not letting you go this time. But how about we start with dinner first?”

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this was meant to be light and fluffy. 
> 
> The prompt "[Stepril] reuniting in college and then one of them proposing to the other" does not scream angst, but as it turns out, I ended up putting my angsty twist on things anyway.


End file.
